


My Fingertips that Brush the Void

by madsthenerdygirl



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Heavy Angst, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 22:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14459340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madsthenerdygirl/pseuds/madsthenerdygirl
Summary: A close call, seen from three different perspectives.





	1. Chapter 1

She was aiming for Wyatt.

Carol, it was Carol, her gun was up and she was…

“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I was aiming—it wasn’t supposed—Lucy?”

Lucy was in Wyatt’s arms, Wyatt’s because that’s who was closest when she’d fallen, jumping in front, taking the bullet—the bullet her mother had fired—

“I was aiming for Wyatt,” Carol repeated, her eyes wide. “I was aiming…”

Flynn stalked towards her. “You.”

He grabbed her by the throat.

“Garcia,” Wyatt said sharply. Not to tell him to stop for Carol’s sake. To warn him for Lucy's.

Lucy was fading.

Flynn dropped Carol. “I would never,” she whispered. “I wouldn’t… my Lucy…”

Blood, there was so much blood. Wyatt had his hand over it, the red seeping in between his fingers. “Luce,” he croaked. “Lucy, hey, honey, honey look at me. I need you to keep your eyes open, okay? Keep them on me, honey, please.”

Flynn crouched down on Lucy’s other side. She was pale, so pale, shivering… “Wyatt?” he asked. Flynn tended to shoot and keep moving. He hadn’t had as much experience actually patching up war wounds.

Wyatt shook his head, didn’t look at him, just kept staring down into Lucy’s face. “Luce. Please.”

Lucy’s eyelids fluttered. Her gaze shifted, from Wyatt to Flynn. Her mouth seemed to be trying to form words. Her fingers twitched, reaching for Flynn, then pointing at Wyatt.

He understood.

“I will, I promise.”

She didn’t nod, not quite, but her eyes slipped closed.

Wyatt choked. “No. No, no no no no no no Luce, honey, Luce please don’t—Rufus! Rufus get the damn Lifeboat!”

Flynn bent down, brushing Lucy’s hair out of her face. “Stay,” he whispered. “Lucy.”

Her chest was still moving, she was still breathing, but her eyes were closed, she looked so still…

Flynn pressed his lips to her temple. “I love you,” he whispered. “We love you. Stay, my darling. We need you to stay.”

Lucy didn’t answer.

But she kept breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: You know who I HAVEN'T shot yet?  
> Captainofthefallen: OH NO
> 
> ...should I make you all wait for the rest? Or should I spare you all and just post the rest now? Decisions... decisions...


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reviewer made a compelling case so here is the rest! ;)

Wyatt couldn’t let go.

In the Lifeboat, as they carried her out, he couldn’t let go, couldn’t get his fingers to uncurl from around her arm.

“Wyatt,” Flynn told him. “You have to let go, the doctors—”

“I can’t,” he croaked. “I can’t.”

She was still breathing, her eyes were closed but she was still breathing, he had to cling to that—she was still breathing—

Rufus provided Denise with an explanation. Wyatt didn’t even understand what was said. It was all white noise. He just held Lucy’s hand while the doctors, the damn doctors in their damn white robes, talked around her like she was an object instead of a goddamn human being, like she wasn’t his wife, like she wasn’t loved with every fiber of his stupid miserable soul.

Why had she jumped in front? Why had she taken the bullet? He should’ve taken it. Carol was aiming for him. He could tell, and besides, Carol had looked devastated when the blood had bloomed, horrible red, on Lucy’s chest. She hadn’t wanted to kill her daughter. Just make her miserable, apparently.

It should’ve been him. He should be on the table now. If any of them was going to die it should be him, it should’ve been him, Lucy, Lucy, why did you take it, it should’ve been him…

“She’s a fighter,” Flynn said quietly. Like Wyatt couldn’t see his pale face, the circles under his eyes, the way his jaw clenched. Like he didn’t know Flynn’s expressions like the back of his own hand, like he couldn’t tell that Flynn was swallowing down his own panic for Wyatt’s sake. “She’ll pull through, Wyatt.”

He’d loved Jess. He’d loved her so much. But it hadn’t been his love for her that’d saved her or brought her back. He could love Lucy as much as he wanted and it wasn’t going to be what pulled her through.

Still… he couldn’t help it. He gripped her hand tight, bent over her like she was a shrine, his goddess. Whispered _I love you, I love you, I love you_ until his voice gave out.

“You need to sleep,” Flynn said at one point, trying to tempt him with coffee.

Wyatt shook his head, eyes never leaving her still, quiet face. He wasn’t leaving her. He couldn’t let go. It was like some kind of bargain with the universe, a test of strength—so long as he held on, so did she.

He heard Flynn sigh, and then felt a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. “You don’t have to stay.”

“If you think I’m leaving either of you, you’re an idiot,” Flynn replied without heat.

Wyatt kept his eyes on Lucy’s face. _Open your eyes, honey. Just open your eyes for me._

He held her hand, kissed the knuckles. “I love you.”

He couldn’t let go.


	3. Chapter 3

The last thing she remembered was her mother’s face and thinking, _you will not take one more thing that I love._

After that it was pain.

She liked to think that she was strong, that she was brave, but oh, God, that pain. It had been all she could think of. She’d wanted to scream, if only she’d had the strength. She’d’ve screamed her goddamn lungs out with how much it hurt. It consumed her like a combination of glass shards and wildfire inside of her chest, her bones, her very soul.

Wyatt was already breaking—she could hear it in his voice. Flynn. Flynn, Flynn, the strong one, the one who took tragedy and remolded it, sharpened it into a weapon.

 _Take care of him_ , she tried to say, but her damn mouth wouldn’t work.

“I will. I promise.” Flynn, as always, understood her even when she didn’t say a word.

Oh, good. That was good then.

 _Stay_ , she heard, like it was across a great canyon. _I love you. We love you. Stay, my darling._

And then, thank God, the pain was slipping away.

She drifted. She didn’t know how long.

When she woke up, the pain was there again, but minimized. She could handle it.

Her eyelids felt heavy, like cement blocks. All of her felt tired, exhausted, and thinner somehow.

Someone was holding onto her hand, tightly, almost too tightly, yet somehow it comforted her. Grounded her.

She blinked a few times, trying to get everything back into focus. Someone was talking in a low, soothing voice.

“Hey. I love her, but I love you too. You need to take a break, you need proper rest. And food.”

She knew that voice. She turned her head.

Wyatt was sitting next to her, the one holding her hand. Flynn was crouched next to him, hands framing Wyatt’s face. They both looked like shit, like they hadn’t slept in days.

She tried to speak, but she apparently hadn’t had any water. Her throat was dry as a desert. All that came out was a kind of coughing noise.

It was enough.

Both men’s heads snapped towards her, eyes going wide.

“Luce,” Wyatt breathed out, his eyes wet and his voice raw. He moved forward, kissing her knuckles. “Lucy, Lucy, Lucy.”

Flynn mumbled something in Croatian, then bent over her, gently brushing her hair out of her face. His other hand, she noticed, rested between Wyatt’s shoulder blades. “Hello, darling. Let me get you some water, okay?”

She nodded. Water sounded amazing, her thirst spiking at the very thought.

Wyatt kept holding onto her hand, her knuckles pressed to his lips, looking at her like she might disappear on him. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Flynn helped her to sit up and passed her a cup of water. Fuck, it tasted amazing. “Are you trying to tell me what I can and can’t do again, Wyatt Logan?”

To her surprise, Flynn made a raw, pained sound, like something that had started out as a laugh but had morphed into a cry of utter horror halfway through. “Lucy. Please.”

She looked up at him, and he shook his head. “We can’t do that again.”

“Don’t.” Wyatt blinked rapidly, then seemed to give up the fight with his facial expressions. “Please. Don’t. Not again. Promise me, never again, Lucy.”

She looked from one to the other, the crumpled, devastated looks on their faces. Didn’t know how to tell them that she’d be just as bad if it was either one of them, that she knew Wyatt would be just as broken if it was Flynn or that Flynn would be just as full of fury if it was Wyatt. She was the one on the hospital bed this time. She had to make allowances for that.

“Okay,” she said.

It wasn’t a promise. She knew, if someone took her in the Lifeboat back to that moment and said, “Choose again,” she’d still jump in front of him. She’d still take the bullet. That was what happened when you promised to honor and protect, to love and to cherish.

But they were all okay. She’d made it. So why mention it?

She tugged on Wyatt’s hand, pulling him into her. Let him bury his face in her chest as she wrapped her arms around him.

Flynn collapsed a little, sinking down into the chair, his hand petting her hair. _Thank you_ , she mouthed.

He nodded.

“I love you,” she promised, because that was a promise she could keep. To both of them.


End file.
